


Taking a Shot

by Underestimated_amateur



Series: Honey Eyes And a Wolf's Heart [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Basketball, Child Stiles, Fluff, Grieving, Growing Up, Hale fire aftermath, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Mates, M/M, Moving On, Scents & Smells, Teen Derek, Werefox Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 04:05:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11349513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underestimated_amateur/pseuds/Underestimated_amateur
Summary: Derek is seventeen when he finally plays a basketball game. Stiles is nine when he sees his first game.





	Taking a Shot

Derek is seventeen when he finally plays a basketball game. Stiles is nine when he sees his first game.

 

He risks a quick glance at the counting down clock: twenty seconds left. Just as he refocuses on the game he feels the ball leave his control, a kid from the opposing team stealing it away. The players around him begin to run in the opposite direction, moving around him as his head whips around at the thief. He hesitates, eyes flickering to the score board. 52 to 52, fifteen seconds left. 

“Sourwolf!” A yell from the crowd grabs his attention. He turns his head to one of the stands and when he meets eyes with the Stilinski family he pauses. John’s grinning like it’s his own kid out there on the court instead of the orphan they took in. Claudia is next to him, smiling just as bright and proud, holding up a homemade sign reading, ‘Go Derek Go!’ It’s easy to see that Stiles helped her make it, if the little handprint in one of the bottom corners is anything to go by. The little one is jumping up and down in Derek’s old basketball jersey he wore two years ago. He was on the school’s team before, but before he could play a single game his entire life was thrown upside down. He barely wanted to go to school the year that followed, let alone play any sports. He still got to keep his jersey, which Stiles wears more than he does. Even though it’s so big on him it’s hard to tell if he’s even wearing shorts underneath it. Derek doesn’t care either way. 

He grins, waving at them and then races after the two teams. He hears the cheers of the Stilinskis’ as he jumps to block a shot, keeping the ball in his grasp as he lands. Running back to the enemy’s goal, he dodges grabby hands and maneuvers around human obstacles. A quick glance at the clock; five seconds. He lines himself up to shoot, jumps, and takes a shot. 

He hears Stiles and his parents whoop with joy as the ball goes through the net. 

Derek grins, hardly feeling his teammates that swarm around him. Allowing each pat on the back, he worms his way through the players, scanning the mass of people for familiar faces. He almost misses a small figure making a beeline for him. They jump into his arms, wrapping their own arms around his neck with a screech of delight. He has enough time to catch them and keep his balance for both of their sakes. 

“You did it! I knew you could, Derek! You were so awesome!” Stiles babbles, smile wide, “Did you see me in the stands? I cheered for you! Did you see??” 

Derek chuckles, nodding, “I saw you. You cheered the best out of everyone. Thank you for believing in me.” 

“We all did.” Claudia cuts in, walking up to them with John in tow. She’s still carrying around the sign, only now it hangs at her side. 

“Way to go, kid. You were great out there.” John says in agreement. 

Derek feels himself melt under all the praise, “Thanks.” 

 

“Hale, let’s go!” He hears his coach call from behind him. He turns his head to see his team heading to the locker rooms to change and go home. Looking back back at the family, he sets Stiles down. 

“Go on, we’ll be waiting in the car.” Claudia tells him. With an amused smile, she brushes away his damp bangs that cling to his forehead his sweat. Derek flusters a bit at such a motherly gesture, but doesn’t say a peep against it. She hums, pulling her hand away. “Stiles wants to go out for pizza to celebrate. What do you think, are you up for it?” 

Derek nods, letting Stiles hug him one more time before heading into the locker rooms himself. While changing out of his clothes and towelling away any sweat, he receives a few more calls of praise from his teammates. He would’ve took a quick shower, but he didn’t want to keep his pack waiting. 

Derek freezes. 

Blinking, he stares down at the jersey in his hands. 

His pack. He referred to the Stilinskis’ as his pack. 

He swallows, slowly moving to sit down on the nearest bench. He feels his heart beat out of his chest more than he hears it. The room is eerily silent, everyone else has left by now but him. 

When did he start looking at the family that way? Did they know? 

He exhales a shaky breath. Now isn’t the time to think about it, they’re waiting for him. 

He doesn’t get up. 

Part of him, a small voice inside of his head, tells him that he’s just replacing what he lost with something else. That he sure moved on quick and found a new pack. Would he even think of the Stilinskis this way if he hadn’t lost his own family? 

Guilt sinks in his stomach, even though he isn’t completely sure he’s doing anything wrong. His fingers curl tighter into his new jersey. Tears threaten to start building in his eyes, thinking about his family tends to do that when the thoughts of them catch him off guard enough. I misses them even now, but knows he can’t bring them back. 

Still, if they could’ve, he wants to believe they would’ve gone to his game. Maybe his mom would’ve made a sign too, or held the other end of Claudia’s. His dad would’ve ruffled his hair and slapped him on the back. His sisters would’ve surrounded him, giving hugs, praise, and an endearing smart remark or two. Peter would have rolled his eyes and told him he reeks, but there would’ve been a smile on his face. 

Would they’ve gone out for pizza too? Maybe not, but they would’ve at least celebrated at ho─

“Derek!” A loud voice shouts as he hears the door fly open. “Sourwolf, I know you’re in here! Come on I want… Derek?” 

Stiles pauses in step as he makes it the last row of lockers Derek is behind. The little kit furrows his brows, face scrunched in confusion. “Hey, you smell bad.” 

Derek frowns, “Of course I smell bad, Stiles. I’m all sweaty and I didn’t take a show─”

“No, not like that,” Stiles interrupt, scampering over to him. He sits down on the bench beside him, legs dangling off the ground. The kid stares intently at him, far more than any nine year old should, Derek thinks. Placing his hand on the wolf’s bare arm, Stiles leans in closer and sniffs. He pulls away a beat later with a look of determined confirmation.  

“You smell like…” Stiles trails off, nibbling on his bottom lip in thought. Derek watches silently as the gears turn in his  head. To the kit’s credit, no one could ever say Stiles wasn’t clever. He was nosey, stubborn, smart mouthed, and gets into trouble far more often than he should, but he’s always been able to understand and work his way around things. He has a big brain in his head, he just needs to learn to apply himself. 

“I─I don’t, I can’t,” Stiles huffs. He crosses his arms over his chest, growing more frustrated at his lack of answers. “You've smelled bad like this before, but I don't…” 

Derek sympathies with him. Even though they are born as they are, it’s still hard to understand their abilities. They can identify that there is a scent, but there isn't a manual on understanding what the scent  _ is.  _ If Stiles can’t pinpoint the smell as a physical thing, like warm hazelnut, fresh jasmine, and sweet alyssum; the things Stiles thinks Derek smells like (though Derek's not sure if Stiles even knows what alyssum is), then it's usually an emotion. Feelings don't magically change the entire scent of a person, after all. It's their same scent, only manipulated with how they feel. 

Like now. All the angst and brooding Derek's been doing probably makes him smell sad. Stiles can't link it to anything like rotten eggs or sour milk, only other times Derek's been upset. Even if emotions can't be compared to anything else, weres can subconsciously sympathize with each other. Sadness is bad, so to them, the smell of it is bad. That's where the kit is most likely getting confused. 

“It's okay,” Derek promises, “I was just thinking about some sad stuff. I'm okay now.” 

Stiles frowns, “Is that what it is? Sadness?” 

“Yeah, but don't worry about it, okay?” Derek ruffles his hair, putting on a smile. 

“Are you sure? What were you thinking about?” The little one asks, looking up at him with eyes twinkling and concerned. 

He hesitates, but answers honestly, “My family, but it's okay. I have you guys. I shouldn't be sad.” 

Stiles frowns again, and Derek can't read minds, but never has the nine year old looked so ready to slap him. “Sourwolf,” he starts, like he's about to share some earthly wisdom, “that's stupid.” 

“It's okay to be sad,” he continues before Derek can say anything to defend himself. “My mom is sad too, so is Dad and me. We're all sad, 'cause we really cared about Ms. Laura and your family. They were nice people and we really liked them.” 

Derek almost smiles then. For the longest of time his mom would tell Stiles it was okay to just call her by her name, but the little kit always put 'Ms.’ in front of it. Somewhere he had heard it was the polite thing to do with adults. His mom thought it was too cute to correct him before long. 

There's a moment of silence that hangs between the two of them where neither know what to say. Stiles leans his body against Derek's and the wolf shifter wraps an arm around him. Faintly, the sound of a dripping faucet can be heard, but is over all ignored. He hopes they haven't been in here long, the two parents waiting outside might have started to worry. Next to him, Stiles lays his head on Derek's shoulder and sighs, his eyes with a tired glow and a working mind that can't fully comprehend what he even talks about. Derek wonders how someone so young can seem so old at times, yet act so childish every other second. 

“I miss her cookies.” Stiles speaks up again, breaking the silent tension around them. “She made all kinds and always saved some for me and you.” 

Innocent honey brown eyes blink up at the older kid, “She was really awesome. My mom always talked about how much she loved you.” 

_ She loved you too. _ Is what Derek wants to say, but he's too busy trying to wipe away the tears rolling down his cheeks. He chokes back a sob, not wanting to cry in front of a little kid. In front of Stiles.  

Small arms wrap around him then, and he opens his eyes to Stiles’ own watery ones. 

“It's okay Derebear,” the little kit  sniffles loudly. “It's okay to be sad, but we're here for you, okay! 'Cause we're your family too!”

Derek pulls him in for a tighter hug, holding him close. They bury their faces into each other's shoulders, both murmuring small  _ 'it's okay _ ’s and  _ 'I’ve got you _ ’s. He feels the wetness collect on Stiles’ shirt because of him, but can't bring himself to stop crying. He lets the little one’s words sink in as he lets everything he's kept bottled up out. 

He still has a family, though different and broken and a little dysfunctional. He's a wolf that runs with foxes and a human, but maybe it will be okay. 

Maybe, with time, things will be better. Someday he won't have days where he feels like dragging his feet and won't want to curl up into a ball at the thought of his passed family. For now, he thinks, for now it's okay to let himself be sad, to heal. 

As long as he has people to fall back on. 

  
  
  
.

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm back. 
> 
> Any thoughts?


End file.
